


In These Hard Times

by White Aster (white_aster)



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-10
Updated: 2006-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-05 16:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/white_aster/pseuds/White%20Aster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Ruin, Setzer and Locke find each other, and the darkness recedes...for awhile.</p><p><i>Setzer was a stranger here, and everyone had grown a little harder, a little less likely to look each other in the eye since the Ruin.  That's why Setzer didn't notice him.  Almost walked right past him, in fact.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	In These Hard Times

The natives of Kohlingen complained that the winter was warmer this first year after the Ruin. That the snow came later and fell lighter, that the sea roiled strangely, unseasonably warm long into the winter months.

Privately, Setzer thought that they were all cracked. The wind whipped his coat about his legs, chasing the warmth from his fingers. It sure as hells seemed plenty cold to him. Though, he had to admit, he'd not voluntarily spent winter this far north in a long time. He had a suspicion that he'd forgotten what snow weather felt like. On purpose, likely.

A gaggle of kids streaked past him, feet crunching in the snow, scooping up slushy snowballs. Even the end of the world, apparently, couldn't stem youthful enthusiasm at the prospect of a snowball fight.

Setzer had to admit, as he paused to watch the kids, that the snow was pretty. It covered, even if just for a bit, the gray, ashy film that settled over everything. Made the world new and clean, rather than the fractured, desperate thing that it was becoming. Kohlingen wasn't too bad off. Certainly not so bad off that a good-for-nothing gambler couldn't find food and shelter for the winter. But there were whispers, rumors from the few ships that had braved the newly-treacherous oceans, that many other places were not so fortunate. The cities, especially, seemed to be hard-pressed, their supply lines cut off by the difficult sea travel, or by abruptly being hundreds of miles of ocean away from their farmlands. Jidoor was a mess, there were food riots in South Figaro, and Vector....

No one was sure exactly where Vector had disappeared to. Like so many other things, it seemed to have been lost under the waves.

It was ironic, really. With all the landmarks gone and sea travel so dangerous, an air ship would be the obvious answer. For shipping, for simply mapping the crazed changes in the world's geography...for simply getting OFF these tiny, isolated continents. If only...if only.

He had woken up in the western remnants of the Figaro Desert, now separated from the rest of Figaro Desert by an unnatural amount of water. He'd spent a month walking the coast, hoping to find a way to Figaro. Sabin and Edgar would return there, he was sure. He found some strange new monsters and a heartbreaking amount of smashed airship parts washed up on the shore, but no way across the strait. Finally, he'd turned west and found Kohlingen. The peaceful town had been under seige by several marauding flocks of harpiai. The fight had been vicious, especially by himself, and Setzer now had more than a few clawmarks that he'd wear until the day he died, but in the end it was the birds that had been dinner. The townspeople had been as grateful as they had the means to be, and it had been easy to huddle here as winter set in.

There were, he knew, things he should be doing. People he should find. And he missed the sky as he'd miss a severed limb. He woke in the night sometimes from tantalizing dreams, the scent of fuel and wood and steel in his nose, the feel of the wind combing his hair like a lover.. Darril's tomb was not too far from here, but all it had taken was one look at the monsters there, and he knew that it would be suicide to go in alone.

He'd considered it anyway.

It was torture, knowing that he was so close to having the sky back and instead having it just out of his reach. Not to mention the idea of his love's memorial overrun by such abominations. It ate at him, dulling everything. Even his desire to find his friends. He had to admit that he was a coward. He was too afraid of finding graves instead.

_Haven't I stood at enough graves for one lifetime?_

One girl's hair gleamed blonde down her back as she waved to her friends and headed for home. Not quite the same shade, but close enough to bring to mind a fall of honey-gold against white....

Setzer's heart ached almost as much as his scars. He stuffed his hands further in his pockets, shook his head, and continued towards the inn.

"Setzer?"

Setzer was a stranger here, and everyone had grown a little harder, a little less likely to look each other in the eye since the Ruin. That's why Setzer didn't notice him. Almost walked right past him, in fact.

They stared at each other for a moment, squinting in the twilight. "...Locke?"

Locke's clothes, like Setzer's, were tattered, his pack unfamiliar and worn, but the blue bandanna still trailing in the wind was the same. So was the crooked smile. "Yeah. Yeah, it's me."

They made a spectacle of themselves on the street, the tall stranger and the ne'er do well, laughing and embracing and back-thumping against the rapidly darkening night. Somehow, it didn't matter.

~End


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